


maybe we should hold hands

by twelveofmoons



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Camcorders, Correspondence, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Long-Distance, Love Letters, Mutual Pining, Nostalgia, The 90s, record store
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:35:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26232004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twelveofmoons/pseuds/twelveofmoons
Summary: Whether it had been their fate to meet then and there or just pure coincidence, even if she couldn’t have known it by then; Haseul was just a girl, radiant and cheery andbeautiful, and yet she managed to changeeverything.
Relationships: Ha Sooyoung | Yves/Jo Haseul
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32
Collections: Girl Group Jukebox - Mixtape Round





	maybe we should hold hands

**Author's Note:**

> **Written for GG Jukebox Mixtape Round, inspired by[Plastic Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3bNITQR4Uso) by Mariya Takeuchi.**
> 
> Writing for LOONA for the first time, and I'm over the moon to have been able to write something inspired by this song! Inspiration taken from various sources, including [a comment](https://twitter.com/efrzld/status/1281433878771597314) on the song's YouTube video, the concept of [moment of tangency](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cxOuG6zQo_0) by Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows and of course, [Plastic Love's lyrics](https://genius.com/Genius-english-translations-mariya-takeuchi-plastic-love-english-translation-lyrics).
> 
> Happy reading! ♡

Ha Sooyoung still remembers the very first time she ever saw Jo Haseul — Sooyoung had been on the verge of eighteen, fitted burgundy turtleneck tucked into her favorite pair of her mother’s old jeans and freshly cut short hair, a classic act of teenage rebellion that came almost too late, hiding from her father’s inquiring gaze behind thick wooden shelves loaded with an extensive selection of delicate LP records in the quietest corner of her family’s record shop. She was pretending to be busy browsing through the records on sale in the hopes of stumbling across some rare finding she hadn’t had the chance to listen and secretly keep to herself, when her hand brushed against someone’s fingers when she made the move to pick a seemingly newly arrived LP, curious as to what it was. Sooyoung pulled away almost instantly, flustered; she was supposed to be working, and instead, she was avoiding cashier duty in one of the store’s busiest days, shy, cheeks flushed a tan shade of pink because she had just brushed hands with this beautiful girl with universe-bearing eyes and pointy ears.

Sooyoung had seen beautiful girls before, but there was just _something_ about her — something so incredibly magnetic to a point it was almost too hard for Sooyoung to stop staring, something so charming and captivating that immediately swept Sooyoung off her feet. She’s beautiful; gentle but sharp facial features that gave her this ethereal, princess-like aura to her, glistening eyes hidden behind the thin silver frames of her specs, matching black top and skirt accentuating her narrow waist under an oversized jean jacket. It would be so easy to say something, ask for her name or her number, _anything_ , but Sooyoung is too enamored with this girl that seemed to have walked out of her dreams to even think about regaining her composure and try not to seem _so_ desperate.

She was _right there_ , right in front of her, but the opportunity to make a move was slowly slipping away from her gentle grasp as Sooyoung just stood there, speechless, unable to even blabber a single sentence.

“Hey, um… Are you planning on getting this?” The girl asked, pointing to Mariya Takeuchi’s Variety now in Sooyoung’s hands, the LP that both of them had made the move to pick.

“Oh, no, please,” Sooyoung almost blabbered, giving her an embarrassed smile, ears burning red. “Take it. I was just curious as to what it was. Please. Just take it.”

“Really? Are you sure?” The stranger said back, sounding almost uncertain. “I can ask someone that works here to see if there’s another copy.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry!” Sooyoung tried again awkwardly, but the sole pressure of being in front of someone so beautiful and so out of her league — there was _no way_ a girl this stunning was single — had sent her composure and social skills out the window the second she had set her eyes on this stranger. “You can take it.”

“Oh, then… I will! Thank you! Have a nice day!” She said politely, beaming Sooyoung another bright smile, and left, leaving Sooyoung’s fingertips aching for _something_ and the bittersweet taste of regret on her tongue.

Sooyoung might not have been able to fathom the abstract concept of love at first sight until she first met Jo Haseul. It felt too easy, brushing hands with a beautiful stranger who was interested in the same LP as she was. Like fate was purposely tipping Haseul onto her direction. Like they had been fated to meet the second Haseul had decided to come into the store. Like the universe had handed her this chance of finding out how sweet and easy love could be on a silver platter.

Whether it had been their fate to meet then and there or just pure coincidence, even if she couldn’t have known it by then; Haseul was just a girl, radiant and cheery and _beautiful_ , and yet she managed to change _everything_.

Jo Haseul came back the following week, black fitted top tucked into a plaided brown, gray and white skirt, with a rather simple proposition, “I think we should listen to the LP together.”

There hadn’t been a single day that week in which Sooyoung hadn’t hoped the beautiful stranger would show up once again. Sooyoung knew the chances of ever seeing her again were slim; there were a handful of regular customers that would come by the store every once in a while, usually diehard music fans with affinity for all things vinyl and classic, and she didn’t look like the type. And when the doorbell rang on a particularly breezy afternoon, announcing the arrival of a new customer, Sooyoung lifted her uninterested eyes from the record player magazine she had been flickering through to aid her boredom, and saw _her,_ staring right back at her with inquiring eyes behind a different pair of glasses this time.

“Mom, I’m going to play something else now, okay?” She announced loudly, unsure if she had been heard at all, but proceeded to take the LP from the stranger’s hands and swapped the record that had been playing for _Variety_. The breathy vocals matched with the upbeat piano and percussion from the first song immediately filled the store, changing the quiet and jazzy atmosphere with a cheerful and playful melody. Everything about that first song felt incredibly easy — easy to enjoy, easy to dance to, easy to let yourself be guided by the rhythm and lose yourself in the music. She could almost imagine herself as the main character in a coming of age movie, flirting with the idea of liking girls in a _more than friends_ kind of way, nervousness brewing in her chest as the stranger did as little as look at her. “What a fun song, I love the instrumental! I don’t think I’ve heard anything from this artist before. Are they Japanese, maybe?”

“That’s right! She’s really big there. I remember her songs would play in almost every store when I was living there as a kid,” The girl explained, fumbling with the paper sleeve laying on the flat surface of the cashier counter. “I’ve been wanting to get this LP for a quite some time, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. Seems like I got lucky.”

Sooyoung nodded, wanting to say more, but struggling with what approach she should take. She wanted to be flirty and easy going and make this stranger like her, but she couldn’t even _look_ at her without getting awfully flustered. The store was mostly empty with the exception of Sooyoung’s father coming in and out of the storage room, carrying with him boxes of new arrivals and record players to reorganize their display window. Silence wasn’t all that uncomfortable, but she felt like she was drowning in her own words, failing to make a single sound. The first song seemed to be reaching its end, the final chorus and harmonies echoing in her ears, the mix of English and Japanese lyrics failing to ease her into fulfilling the main character role in her own story like they had when the song first started playing. Her love interest was right in front of her, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to say a single word, shyness taking over her confidence.

“Are you busy right now?” She asked. Sooyoung shook her head in denial; at that time of the day, she’d be lucky if more than three customers would stop by for the remainder of the afternoon. “The next song is my favorite. I want to know your opinion on it.”

Sooyoung cocked her eyebrow, listening carefully as the first song started to fade out into nothingness. She wasn’t expecting many customers to come in that day, knowing that Wednesdays were the quietest days in the store. Curiosity was certainly getting the best of her, but she had nothing to lose. “Let me get you a chair. I have a feeling we’ll be here for a while.”

Sooyoung found that talking about music and commenting on each individual song from _Variety_ was easier than making small talk would ever be; music was naturally a comfortable topic for her, having grown up in a record store, listening to an array of genres and musicians whose records were for sale there. Flipping through the new arrivals had become a sort of habit of hers; checking that particular section of the shop was always the best way to discover new artists, having many times stolen — _borrowed for personal use with little to no intentions of returning_ — right from under her parents’ noses to supplement her own collection. As they went through the album, discussing the many songs and the impressive genre variety in one single piece of work that somehow managed to flow very nicely from one song to the other, Sooyoung noticed how she seemed to be equally as comfortable when talking about music, mentioning once or twice her classical background and opera training, and how her parents were musicians, too. That bit about her opera training left Sooyoung even more curious, and she asked if the stranger would ever sing for her. The girl had smiled in response, leaving a vague _“someday, maybe?”_ in the air as she continued talking.

The sun was fading out to a darker sky by the time Sooyoung finally realized how late it was getting. It had been easy, almost _too easy_ , to lose herself in the conversation and lose complete track of time. Things like this with her felt too easy, like it was all supposed to happen. Like fate had been purposely tipping this stranger onto her direction. Sooyoung’s mother popped in to announce that dinner would be ready in a couple of minutes, and that her _friend_ could eat with them if she wanted. She still needed to close the store and clear the register, and she doubted the girl would take the offer.

The stranger had been a step away from walking away into the breezy evening, almost out the door, but Sooyoung couldn’t let herself make the same mistake twice — she needed something; a name, a phone number, _anything_. She would take anything that would help her give some sense of identity to this beautiful stranger that wouldn’t leave Sooyoung alone with her thoughts. “I’m Sooyoung, by the way.”

“Jo Haseul,” She said back, looking over shoulder. Haseul was quick to spot the evident embarrassment, cheeks flushed and ears burning red, and giggled. The sound of her laugh made settle something inside of Sooyoung’s chest that she couldn’t quite name, but it felt like pieces of a puzzle within her being finally coming together. “Good night, Sooyoung. I’ll see you soon.”

As promised, Haseul did come back two weeks later, a cream cardigan tucked into high waisted jeans, thin black belt wrapped around her slim waist, and with another LP in hand. In those short days in which Sooyoung hadn’t seen her, she somehow fell even more infatuated, falling even deeper into this trap she was setting up for herself. Sooyoung recognized Haseul from the corner of her eye and immediately went to her father, begging him to watch over the register for the rest of the afternoon, and the second he said yes, she was already reaching for Haseul’s hand and bringing her to Sooyoung’s secret hiding corner. Haseul smiled shyly as she let herself be guided by Sooyoung, hiding her infatuated giggle behind her hand as they walked past curious customers, the tip of her ears ever so slightly flushed with the faintest hue of pink.

Something about Haseul that day was different — she insisted in wanting to listen to one of Sooyoung’s favorite albums, and also insisted that Sooyoung took the LP she had brought with her and gave it a listen on her own time. Almost as if… She wanted Sooyoung to listen to these songs and think of her and her only. Oh, if she only knew that Sooyoung’s infatuation had turned every single song in existence into a song about _her_ …

When Haseul was about to leave later that day, twenty minutes past closing time once again, she turned back on her feet right before walking out the door and said, “Tell your mom I’d love to join you for dinner next time.”

“Are you even listening to me?” The clearly fake annoyance in Jinsol’s voice interrupted Sooyoung’s train of thought right as she was about to fall asleep, eyes lost somewhere in the white emptiness of the ceiling above them. Sooyoung had gotten distracted midway through Jinsol’s story about all the plans her girlfriend had made for their anniversary, slipping into another daydream about her and a certain regular customer with pointy ears and a dazzling smile. Jinsol nudged Sooyoung’s shoulder gently with a knowing smile, only nudging more insistently after Sooyoung groaned in response, until she finally managed to get Sooyoung’s attention once again. “Hello? Earth to Ha Sooyoung? Would mind coming back from wherever in space you are to spend some time with your best friend?”

“Sorry, Sol,” She whispered, muffling a quiet whine with her pillow. “What did you say again?”

“Jaehyun said he was thinking of going to the beach one of these days. His new boyfriend has a van and he could probably give us a ride but we’d have to chip in for the gas,” Jinsol detailed, gently laying down on the pillow next to Sooyoung’s and turning to face her. “What do you think? We could have some of that seafood stew we had the last time we went to Busan, too.”

“Do you think I could bring a friend?” Sooyoung wondered out loud. “Like… If there would be space for one more person to come with us.”

Jinsol cocked her eyebrow in suspicion. “Friend? What friend?”

“You don’t know her,” She was quick to rebut, already regretting bringing up the topic. “I met her recently. I think you’d like her a lot, Sol.”

“Is this _‘friend’_ the one you’ve been working on a mixtape for?” Jinsol teases, twirling her hair around her finger with a smug grin. It was Sooyoung’s turn to nudge her playfully, earning herself a kiss being blown in her direction, and she felt so incredibly lucky that the room was dark enough for her flushed red cheeks to be almost unnoticeable. “When are you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“ _Yet_ ,” Jinsol pointed out, hopeful as ever. “She may not be your girlfriend _now_ , but… We can work on that. Operation… _Help Ha Sooyoung Get a Girlfriend._ Right?”

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

Sooyoung hadn’t made any definitive plans to celebrate her eighteenth birthday — she had thought of a few way she could celebrate, like inviting her a handful of her closest friends over and having dinner together (and maybe begging her father to spare them a few bottles of soju and beer), or getting a train and spending the day at the beach, and that had been her very first mistake. The 24th of May that year had started like almost every other day, with the exception of the special breakfast her parents had prepared for her, generous gifts from both her grandparents and her sister, and getting to go back to sleep instead of having to help with the shop downstairs.

With no plans for her special day, Sooyoung went back to bed, hoping to sleep a couple more hours until lunch time, only to be disturbed by an insistent knock on her front door right before she could go back to sleep. It was Jaehyun, one of her close friends back from high school, and he was insisting in taking her for a second breakfast at this new bakery that had just opened. She tried to argue that she had just eaten with her family and that she was full, but he rebutted saying it would take them time to get there anyways, and that there would be plenty of time for her to start getting hungry again.

Ten minutes and much bickering later, they were out the door and on their way. It had been a while since the last time they had seen each other, and she was grateful that they could spend some time together like this. He had been scouted by a modelling agency the year prior and had been trying to convince Sooyoung to give modelling a try ever since; _‘You’d be perfect for it, you’d get so many love calls the second your face was out there!’_ But Sooyoung had only dismissed the idea, unsure if it’d ever work out. The walk to the bakery felt much shorter than Sooyoung imagined it would, and sooner than she expected, they had arrived. Since it was her birthday, Jaehyun insisted on paying for everything, and after breaking their diets with overpriced slices of cake and other French pastries, Jaehyun also insisted on walking home with her. Something about making the most of their time together, and Sooyoung agreed with his reasoning.

Upon returning home, the whole place was suspiciously dark, especially for that time of the day, late morning extending itself over lunchtime and early afternoon. The lights flickered on suddenly, and when Sooyoung opened her eyes again, she found herself staring at her friends waiting for her to arrive with a huge cake, golden confetti flying everywhere, cheering and screaming, _“Surprise!”_

Once the excitement of Sooyoung’s arrival had died down a bit, her friends busying themselves with smaller tasks, she found that, with the help and support of her family, Jinsol, Yoonah and Yubin had decided to organize and throw her a surprise birthday party. They explained their whole plan in detail, from getting in touch with her parents and proposing the idea to them to strategically getting her out of the house for hours so they could secretly come over and organize everything. Sooyoung insisted that they all sat together by the kitchen so Yubin, who was warming up all the food they had brought in various saucepans over the stove, wouldn’t feel left out. Yoonah opened a bottle of cola with a knowing smile as Jinsol announced with a playful wink, “Oh, and we have another surprise for you later!”

The surprise, Sooyoung had come to find out later, was Haseul. She arrived as the night was falling upon the dusk sky, with more cake and two LPs tucked under her arm. Sooyoung had no idea of how they had found out about Haseul, knowing she hadn’t mentioned any names, but her suspicions of her sister snitching on her were later confirmed by Yoonah, “Your sister gave you away. Jinsol said she knew you were interested in someone, but she hadn’t managed to get you to give any details about this mystery girl. So we asked her, and she told us everything about this regular customer that comes by every other week to see you.”

The rest of the evening was spent binge watching Full House, Goong and the first two episodes of Asphalt Man. They ordered loads of fried chicken, and Sooyoung’s parents agreed to supervision their drinking, giving them a pack of beer from the fridge. Lightweights Jinsol, Yubin and Yoonah were quick to fall asleep on the sleeping mats they had organized in the living room, drifting off into sweet slumber, all huddled up together. Haseul was the only one still awake, persistent hand holding her bottle of beer, quietly watching the same boring infomercials on the TV.

“Still awake?” Haseul half whispered, half said. “Can I tell you a secret?”

_Why would you?,_ Sooyoung felt inclined to ask, but instead offered, “What kind of secret?”

“It’s not really a secret, it’s more like a confession? I think,” She pondered. “Well… When I first went to the shop… I wasn’t really looking to buy anything. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you. I spent hours staring at you from the coffee shop across the street and my cousins were taunting me saying I’d never be brave enough to go talk to you. So I did, hoping to get your phone number, but then I saw you and you were so much prettier from up close, and I panicked. I couldn’t even think of anything clever or flirty to say.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I thought you should know,” She offered, simply. “Good night, Sooyoung.”

Sooyoung could only hope she wasn’t reading too deeply in between the lines of what Haseul had just said. She went to sleep with Haseul’s words echoing in her mind, at ease, and she was _almost_ sure. That the feeling, whatever it was, was mutual. A confession on her end was still pending, but that was the moment in which Sooyoung knew that she was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Everyone had that one person that could make them want to drop everything for this person, that one person that was truly their weakness, their true soft spot, and Sooyoung was sure that Haseul was that person for her. All she needed to know was if Haseul felt that same way too.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Haseul had asked in a quiet whisper, laying down in Sooyoung’s bed right beside her. Something about this, being in bed with her, felt so intimate but so terrifying at the same time. Sooyoung didn’t think she would ever get used to how truly beautiful Haseul was, from the way she fluttered thin bands of eyelashes to the way she looked at Sooyoung, flushed cheeks and messy hair spilling in a mess of black strands on top of Sooyoung’s pillow. _She’s perfect_ , and the way Sooyoung felt about her was terrifying to extents Sooyoung couldn’t even begin to describe.

“Another one?” Was Sooyoung’s reply. “You’re a girl with many secrets, aren’t you?”

“I am,” She said back right away. “But it’s almost not a secret. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“My parents got a job offer in the United States. We’re leaving tomorrow.”

_“Oh.”_

“Yeah. I know,” Haseul replied. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I didn’t know how to.”

Sooyoung shook her head and reached for Haseul’s hand, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “It’s okay. I’m glad you told me anyway.”

Haseul’s parents arrived to pick her up earlier the following morning. Their goodbye was emotional, hugging each other closely and whispering their last words to each other, unsure of when they’d be able to see each other again.

“I’ll write you every week!” Haseul had promised in a whisper, lips pressed against Sooyoung’s shoulder, hugging her so tightly like she was afraid of what would happen when she let go. Sooyoung squeezed her almost a bit too hard, trying to remember what it felt like to have the girl of her dreams in her arms for what she knew would be the last time in a long while. “Promise me you’ll try and write back as often as you can!”

“I will! Every week!” Sooyoung said back, voice almost drowning in her throat. Even if she wished Haseul had told her sooner, the sole fact Haseul chose to spend her last night in Korea with her meant a lot more than what she could fathom at the moment, heartbreak and regret stinging, knowing she would watch Haseul go away without telling her how she truly felt. “I’ll miss you.”

“I will miss you too,” Haseul whispered, reluctantly starting to let go. “Take care!”

Haseul’s first letter arrived on a boring Tuesday a month after she had left for the United States. Sooyoung was going through the mail, sorting new catalogues and bills, when she spotted a pristine white envelope with a colorful stamp she had never seen before. She recognized Haseul’s handwriting almost immediately, clear and sharp letters addressing the envelope to Sooyoung Ha, and she was quick to run to her mother’s office and get a letter opener, careful not to ruin the envelope in the slightest. She was planning on keeping everything, the envelopes and the letters and whatever else Haseul sent her in a box. So that maybe, someday in the future, she’d be able to have all of these memories of her correspondence with Haseul and look back at her youth with fondness.

Haseul described life there as weird and bright. Everything over there seemed to be so much bigger, brighter, louder than anything in Yangsan could ever be. She detailed all the novelties she was getting to know as her family settled into their new home, from fast-food restaurants to TV shows and movies to musicians and promised to send Sooyoung a LP when she found something she knew Sooyoung would like. Sooyoung felt like she had a part of Haseul with her, pink glitter ink on the white paper with cute hearts and drawings everywhere along the edges of the sheet, and she was careful to keep it as perfect as it had come, putting it in her secret box and sliding the box under her bed. She started writing back right away, thinking of everything that had happened since Haseul left; it wasn’t much, but it was a start. She hadn’t written many letters before, but she was sure she would eventually think of something interesting to tell.

By the second year, Haseul started including pictures with her letters. Polaroids of her in various locations, like vintage diners and famous American landmarks she had detailed visiting in her letters, and several candid pictures taken with her instant camera. Haseul had gotten her driving license and her first car, a used, beatdown 1991 red Mazda, and would go on road trips across the States with her new friends, especially during the summer. She would tell all these stories about a magical place called Disneyland she had visited with her younger sister Yeojin and a couple of friends, and how she’d love to take Sooyoung there one day. It was the most magical place on Earth according to her, and Sooyoung couldn’t even imagine a place like that; every place with Haseul was magical to its own merit, and what _truly_ made any place special was sole fact she got to be with Haseul.

Sooyoung was starting to get used to retelling all these little things that happened in her day-to-day, mentioning how she had joined a modelling agency and how her career was starting to take off rather quickly, also making sure to include some of the best shots from a pictorial to a local fashion magazine. In her response, Haseul swooned over the pictures and mentioned how she would pin them to her wall, so she could look at Sooyoung whenever she wanted, as many times as she wanted.

For Sooyoung’s birthday, Haseul had mailed her a big box full of gifts that arrived just a few days after her birthday, including three LPs from an American band Sooyoung had grown interested to over time, loads of American candies and sweets, a carbon fiber brush (after Sooyoung had complained to want an American one but it was too expensive), and a brand-new camcorder Sooyoung had been wanting for months. Attached to the back of the camcorder, still perfectly new inside its little box, there was a note telling her that returning any of the gifts was not an option, and that Haseul would not accept anything if she did mail them back to her. Along with the gifts, Haseul had also included pictures, as usual, and a very long letter congratulating Sooyoung on her twenty-first birthday, mentioning how she was now a legal adult in the States too, and that if she was there, she would have loved to take Sooyoung on a long drive to watch the sunrise by the beach, cuddled up in blankets inside Haseul’s car, listening to _their_ songs as they drove full-speed in a highway to never. Tucked in a corner, almost hidden from her eye, Sooyoung found a cassette tape with a note glued onto it, instructing her to charge the camcorder then play the tape.

Waiting for the camcorder to charge fully could be compared to long minutes of quiet torture, curious as to what could be in the mysterious tape, but the surprise Haseul had planned made the wait worth the while — Haseul was singing her happy birthday, with a stupid little birthday hat on, and she had even gone out of her way to get some cake and candles for a 2 minute clip. She even pretended to smear some cake onto the lens, looking straight into the camera and going, _“Happy birthday, Sooyoung! I hope you’ve had an amazing day! I’m not sure of when this will get to you, but I’m hoping it does around the same week of your birthday. If it doesn’t, I’m hoping you can pretend it did, just for me!”_ A bright smile, the one she knew was for her to see and her _only_ , looking so deeply into the lens Sooyoung could’ve been fooled that Haseul had been in fact looking at _her_ through the camera. _“I wish I could’ve spent your birthday with you, but hopefully I will get to do that again someday. Right? Wait for me!”_

Sooyoung went to sleep imagining what it would be like to savor the feeling of Haseul’s lips against hers, what it would be like to spend her birthday with Haseul as her girlfriend instead of _just a friend_ and fell asleep to a dream of kissing her _best friend_ once again.

Sooyoung had been almost twenty-three, long hair, weeks away from her university graduation, when she first experienced _real_ heartbreak.

Checking her mailbox for new letters twice week had become part of her routine — go to class, come back home, check the mailbox; go to work or to the agency, come back home, check the mailbox. Sometimes the mailman would leave a paper slip announcing of arrival of a package that was too big for her mailbox with instructions on how to pick it up from the post office later; that had happened a few times over the past five years, like when Haseul had sent her a brand new camcorder for Sooyoung’s birthday a few years prior, or when she had received rolls and rolls of film strips to develop. Every picture had been of a place Haseul had intended on taking her to visit, or something she saw that reminded her of Sooyoung.

The first month without any news had gone by quicker than she realized, but she was growing frustrated at the weird silence. Every week without fail she had received a letter or a package, and if not, every two weeks at most. Haseul would always mail her in advance, aware that there was a slim but existent chance that some letters got lost in the mail, so she had always been ready. She would always write to Sooyoung, even if short letters detailing a particular event, like she did when she had gone ice skating with her sister during the Christmas season. There was always something Sooyoung could look forward to, even if just a small piece of paper with Haseul’s handwriting; their correspondence had always felt like Sooyoung was mailing parts of herself for Haseul to keep with her overseas, and she would have a part of Haseul with her, the letter she got for her birthday the previous year tucked in a pocket in her wallet. She had so many letters and packages and gifts that she had gotten from Haseul over the course of the five years they had been corresponding, and she wasn’t used to silence. But she was hopeful it was just a mishap. Maybe Haseul had gotten busy with university, being very close to graduating university herself, the date of her final thesis approaching. Maybe Haseul simply hadn’t had the time to go to the post office. It was fine. She had all the time in the world when it came to Haseul.

But then another month went by. Then another one, and another.

For weeks, there was nothing but radio silence. No letter. No package. _Nothing._ She still insisted in check her mailbox as usual and dropped by the post office in her neighborhood with regular persistence, hopeful that something would eventually arrive. Haseul couldn’t have simply _forgotten_ about Sooyoung and their friendship all of sudden; they had been corresponding regularly for years, and just before the sudden silence, Sooyoung herself had sent Haseul a bunch of letters. She still mailed Haseul a few more times, tentative, but nothing came of it.

She felt hopeless. Clueless. Left wondering if she had ever held any sort of importance to Haseul to begin with, if it had been that easy for Haseul to forget about her. Pondering if she had said or done something that had upset Haseul greatly. There were an array of ideas and possibilities flashing through Sooyoung’s mind; maybe Haseul had met someone who was better than her in every way possible, or maybe she had just forgotten about this girl from her hometown who she befriended months before leaving to the States.

Sooyoung felt so incredibly selfish for wanting answers or anything other than silence — how entitled was her, _just a friend_ , to demand any sort of answer? — but she hated the growing emptiness in her chest caused by all this wondering. There wasn’t ever anything of actual _substance_ between them, and the lines between friends and something more had been blurry since the day they first met. They weren’t ever _just_ friends, but they weren’t _much more_ than friends either. She wished her heart was made of plastic, beautiful and fake and _unbreakable_ , so this persistent heartache haunting her would go away.

And then Sooyoung grew angry. _Bitter._ Heartbreak tasted sour on her tongue, and she wished she could ever be able to hate Haseul. _How dared her simply forget of Sooyoung, like she wasn’t ever a part of her life? Like she was nothing?_ She even considered burning all the letters, but her hands betrayed her, lighter shaking in her hand, the slightest glimpse of the red flame against the countless letters Haseul had sent her being enough to stop herself from moving on with her idea. Even amidst the anger and the sourness of a heartbreak, Sooyoung was still undeniably fond, and couldn’t ever get rid of something so special from someone that made her so happy. She decided to the hide box in her closet and forced herself to forget about it. Like most things, heartbreak too would pass. She just needed a distraction.

Sooyoung tried going out to bars, picking up girls and guys left and right, or anyone who could give her the slightest bit of attention and occupy her mind with anything that wasn’t _Haseul, Haseul, Haseul_. She changed the day for the night, awake when most were asleep, dancing the night away in bars and clubs, having strangers eating out the palm of her hand so easily, but she couldn’t bring herself to forget about the one person who didn’t want her. There was always a small detail in everyone she got slightly interested in that somehow reminded her of Haseul; the way they smiled, or tucked their hair behind their ear, or even smaller things, like glistening eyes (just like Haseul’s) or cute little ears (just like Haseul’s).

She had been desperate to feel something, craving to feel something _real,_ but the emptiness was still there, lingering in the corners of her mind as a _reminder_ that her heart wasn’t made of plastic, and that it _could_ and _would_ be broken.

_“Delivery for Ha Sooyoung!”_

Sooyoung’s first response is to frown. She’s immediately suspicious, narrowing her eyes, well aware that the mail is usually left in the mailbox for her and the other residents to pick up. Despite her suspicion, she still drags herself to get the door. She takes a look through the peephole and almost doesn’t believe what she’s seeing. She blinks several times, pinching her own arm for good measure, then looks again. Her eyes could very much be betraying her, but she doesn’t think her imagination would come up with a sight as delightful as this.

“Haseul?” Sooyoung inquires, still apprehensive that her imagination could be tricking her into believing someone she hadn’t seen in five years was suddenly standing outside her door but still pushes the door open to verify for herself. Haseul is right _there_ , within arm reach, looking as beautiful as ever with her short hair and dazzling smile, like she hadn’t even left in the first place. She gives Sooyoung a flustered smile, hiding behind the bouquet of flowers in her arms; Sooyoung’s heart is thumping so loudly inside her chest she almost can’t hear her own thoughts, the anger and resentment melting away almost immediately. Nothing else matters right now because _Haseul is back_ , right in front of her and she’s so very _real_ it almost hurts. “I… I can’t believe you’re here. Why… How…? When did you even come back? I have a car; I could’ve picked you up!”

“I promised you I’d come spend your birthday with you someday, didn’t I?” She says so simply, offering Sooyoung the bouquet. “Plus… I’m a girl with many secrets, aren’t I?”

Sooyoung takes the flowers with a smile, welcoming Haseul inside. “You are. But you have too many secrets. More than what I can count.”

“Can I tell you a secret, then?” Haseul offers Sooyoung her hand this time. The very familiar intro to _their_ song starts playing in the background, and Haseul smiles again. And this is when Sooyoung knows with all her being that _this_ , dancing in her kitchen with Haseul in her arms to the same song on repeat for hours, is all she could ever want. “For every song, I’ll tell you a secret I never told anyone else. But I have one condition. You have to dance with me.”

“I have plenty of time. _For you._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> I did struggle with the characterization a bit, and I can't say I'm 100% confident on the way I wrote them, so I'm hoping it at least felt somewhat real to those of you reading! This is also a new style for me; I tend to write in the present, and writing this as a series of multiple (chrological) flashbacks was very different from my usual work. Feedback on the characterization and this particular style is super welcome!  
> Special cameos are from Yoonah (Bella from Elris), Yubin (Dami from Dreamcatcher) and Jaehyun (Hyunjae from The Boyz), in case you were wondering!  
> And yes... I don't know much about vinyl and records (or music in general), and I'm hoping that wasn't too obvious, but I do apologize if it was!  
> If you've made it this far, you're great and thank you for supporting my LOONA ficdom debut! Kudos, comments, bookmarks and whatever else are really loved and appreciated ♡


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